


A Sweet Release of Death

by BrinaFlautist



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Angst, BIG SPOILERS FOR THE NOVEL, F/F, Gen, Personification, humanization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrinaFlautist/pseuds/BrinaFlautist
Summary: A bittersweet reunion. Contains major spoilers for The Terror novel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 11/24/18: I've created a screenplay version of this work, which can be viewed on my tumblr, victorianlesbianboats.

_“I will wait for you, my love. Even if we meet at the bottom of these waters, I know we will meet again.”_

 

Terror couldn’t get those words out of her head.  It was the last thing she said to Erebus before they separated, each helplessly drifting in the Arctic sea.  

 

Terror was looking in the now cracked mirror in her cabin, with only an extremely short candle to give her some light. She held the light blue ribbons in her hands, gently running her fingers against the satin. Her pockets felt uncomfortably light without her trusty brass knuckles, but they were in the care of someone she deeply trusted. Besides, she didn’t need them anymore.

 

She took one of the ribbons and tied it in her messy brown curls, then did the same with the other. Terror looked nothing like the majestic proud vessel that left England. Her skin was as pale as the ice around her; her clothes torn and dirty.

 

Terror blew out the candle and made her way through the dark up to her deck.

 

She looked out to see a group of Netsilik Inuit approaching her, bound in thick furs and being lead by a tall man.

 

As they came closer, she made her way off the ship.  

 

Terror approached the man leading the procession of Inuit. But before she could say anything, she caught a glimpse of his face. An all-too familiar face to the aging ship.

 

_It can’t be._

 

She looked familiar to him too, she could tell. With a gentle tug, Terror pulled the hood of his fur coat over his head, revealing his face.

 

“Francis?” Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible.

 

She placed her hand on his cheek as she looked over him. Yes, it was him. He’d changed, looking much older and, perhaps wiser. Looking in his eyes, she could tell that he had seen many things - many horrible things. His face continued to remain expressionless, and Terror began to worry.

 

“Do you remember me? It’s me, Terror. Your ship.”

 

_Your mother._

 

He clasped Terror’s hand and gently smiled, confirming her hopes.

 

“Francis.” Tears pricked her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him and wept.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Put me out of my misery, Francis. I beg of you.”

 

The old vessel had been through too much. The ghosts of the horrible things she and her captain had seen still clung to her like an infant to its mother’s breast.

 

Terror was like a mother to Crozier, in every sense of the word. To be blunt, she’d spent a good portion of the voyage yelling at him to pull himself together as he drunkenly moped over Miss Cracroft, and she had to admit that she was embarrassed by him.

 

Still, she couldn’t ask for a more loyal captain.

 

Her captain could no longer speak, but Terror could easily read his thoughts. “This ship knows everything about me,” he had once said of her.

 

Terror was alone now, with nothing else to do but slowly wait for her death. Her beloved Erebus was somewhere far away, and everyone else she knew was dead.

 

Although Crozier stood before her, it was clear that he was a different man.

 

It did not take her former captain long to make his decision. He wanted to leave his former life behind as well. Despite this, he still deeply cared for Terror.

 

If she wanted to die, then he would make it happen. For both their sakes.

 

* * *

 

Crozier wasted no time in covering the decks with flammable materials (namely, gunpowder and lamp oil).

 

Terror had offered to assist him, but he was insistent on doing it himself.  

 

_How typical of him,_ she thought.

 

Terror was in her cabin, sitting on her bed, hands politely folded in her lap. She could hear the sled dogs frantically barking from outside, as if they were nagging him to hurry up.

 

Terror wanted to call out and ask if Francis was almost done, but she quickly remembered that he was no longer able to respond.

 

She had expected him to immediately leave as soon as he finished, so she was a bit surprised to see him enter her cabin.

 

_This is the part,_ thought Terror, _where I make some big, meaningful speech._ But she could not think of anything to say. She kept opening her mouth as if she were to say something, but nothing came out.

 

Crozier walked towards her and kneeled down so he could give her proper eye contact. He took her hands into his own and gave them a small squeeze.

 

“Francis, I….” she trailed off as she searched for what to say next. She was silent for a moment, then she spoke again.

 

“I know I gave ya a hard time a lot… maybe I was a little mean. But I wanted to say…” She swallowed as she felt tears prick her eyes.

 

“Thank you. For everything.”

 

Feeling her body tremble, Crozier gave Terror’s hands another reassuring squeeze. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.

 

“Goodbye, Francis.”

 

_“Goodbye, Lady Terror.”_

 

He lit the match shortly after leaving her cabin.

  
  
  



End file.
